


of dreamers and waves

by pen_of_a_valkyrie



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe- Mermaid, An unfair depiction of pirates, BAMF Asami Sato, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Korrasami - Freeform, Mermaids, between mako and asami dw, lavender marriage, no beta we die like jet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pen_of_a_valkyrie/pseuds/pen_of_a_valkyrie
Summary: The ocean was a beautiful, dangerous place, and Asami knew it. What she didn't count on was that the sea would veer its nasty face to her the day before her wedding (or the beautiful woman to follow).^^^asami turns into a mermaid via shenanigans and meets korra
Relationships: Asami Sato/Mako (formerly), Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	1. ink and sabotage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there!
> 
> basically i was hit with an idea, went into a frenzy, and came to with a google doc open accompanied by an absolute behemoth of a first chapter (8k words!)
> 
> nothing too spicy or graphic for the first chapter, just the opening plot and pirates doing pirate things.
> 
> enjoy!

Gulls cried overhead while the ship rocked in the waves, seawater beating against her sides. It was a sleek thing with a sturdy wooden build that cut through the water like butter, while also boasting a prideful air around her. Most would consider it an antique but even with years of seafaring under her belt, _Yasuko’s Enigma_ was the result of a caring and guiding hand with an expert eye.

_Yasuko’s Enigma_ was a melting pot between two cultures, the ship a unique blend of both the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom. While it was as old as Republic City, she was fitted with the most modern technology under its idiosyncratic effects. 

Inside _Yasuko’s Enigma_ sat a young woman writing a letter. Her raven dark hair was pulled back smoothly to a knot on the nape of her neck and her green eyes and red clothing reflected a background the same as the ship she traveled in. While the ship was a strong one that could fare any weather, it was not immune to the sea’s rogue pummeling, causing the woman inside to spill the ink onto the letter and table.

Desperately, the woman cupped the ink with her hands to prevent it from spreading. Hissing under her breath, she grabbed a napkin to attempt to clean it up. She was too late; the ink had spread across the table and soaked more than a few (fortunately useless) papers. The tablecloth, napkin, and her hands were stained a deep black.

With a few minutes of experimenting and surfing through various cabinets, the woman discovered a soap that effectively cleaned the table but did nothing for her hands. She quickly tossed out the papers and the napkin, but the fate of the tablecloth was yet to be known.

Knowing to recognize a lost cause when she saw one, she sighed and stepped out of her office to go to the deck.

The innards of _Yasuko’s Enigma_ reflected its colonial background: the decor had paintings and wall hangings placed at regular intervals in the halls and the mess hall, the walls painted red or green depending on which room one tread in. The closer one came to stepping out on deck the decorations became sparser and the paint became more faded and chipped in some places.

The crewmates were as diverse as the decor, equal amounts mixed like the woman, Earth Kingdom green eyes were the most common, though amber was just as mixed in. There was even a pair of Water Tribe twins. She was fairly certain one of them was a waterbender, but she had never had much exposure on deck whenever seasickness hit. 

She set her hands on the smooth railings and breathed in the salty air. The woman gazed over the brilliant cresting waves, sparkling with gold and amber under the light of the upcoming sunset. The wind brushed against her face, the cool breeze slipping through her hair and making a slight mess of her smooth up-do.

Her good mood quickly soured when she remembered why she was sailing in the first place. 

Eyes skimmed over the horizon, she searched in anticipation, despite knowing they wouldn’t arrive for another handful of hours. Her fiance was waiting for her, having arrived at Ember Island the day before.

Her wedding awaited her, much to Asami’s disappointment. 

^^^

The ship docking was quiet and efficient, just the way Asami’s father liked it. Hiroshi was a thrifty man born with nothing to his name but an empty bank account, but had made it rich making a variety of machines and engineering wonders. Now his bank account was full to the brim with shiny yuans, with several others much like it. Asami had never gone to bed with an empty stomach, and had never known a home without hot showers or a bed without clean sheets, but that didn’t stop Hiroshi and Yasuko from teaching Asami the essence of hard work and the worth of getting her hands dirty.

Asami had been working on another letter to replace the one she had ruined earlier (her hands were still spotted with black ink) and was rolling it up to tuck it away while she quietly waited for the knock. Outside of the window Asami could see the port, not as bustling as it would be in the daytime but lamp light still illuminated a handful of figures performing duties to prepare for the next day.

_Knock, knock, knock,_ sounded through Asami’s office, and was soon followed by two quicker raps. A small smile stretched itself on Asami’s mouth, but her brow still wrinkled. It was her and her father’s special code, one developed when she was young and was scared when someone knocked on the door of their empty, big house. In order to reprimand this, Hiroshi and Asami made their own little pattern.

Neither of them acknowledged the fact that all of this happened after Yasuko’s death.

“Come in,” Asami called, straightening her expression out. She put away the letter, slipping it into the hidden inside pocket of her formal coat to where not even the most experienced pickpockets could try and weasel it out.

“Asami,” Hiroshi greeted, opening the door.

“Dad,” Asami said back, though her heart sank when she noticed Hiroshi had his hair slicked back into a neat coif. He only ever did his hair like that when there was something happening, whether it be an important meeting, a new factory opening ceremony, or…

A fancy meal.

Well, Asami had been through enough of those to last several lifetimes, but this one gave her a sinking feeling in her gut that not even a good cup of ginseng could shake. 

“We’ve landed at the port,” Hiroshi began. His thumb was rubbing against the edge of his coat, one of his nervous ticks that Asami had inherited. At least she wasn’t the only one anxious about this. “It’s time to head on over.” 

Asami nodded and stood up to leave. Most of the lights had already been turned off, along with the radio, while Asami waited.

They walked side by side down a makeshift ramp off the ship, Asami pointedly not taking her father’s hand to help her step down.

A guide dressed in thin red and white clothing waited for them on the dock. Though the heavy Fire Nation air was cooling off from the hot day, Asami envied the guide’s thinner clothing; she was sweating under her thick formal attire. 

The guide, a lanky man with a carefully casual air around him- an inherent part of the Fire Nation was its unique social cues- spread his arms and said, “Welcome to Ember Island, travelers.”

Hiroshi gave him a tight-lipped smile and cooley said, “I’m assuming you know where to take us from here.” 

The ride to the mansion was quick and before Asami knew it they had pulled into the driveway of a traditional Fire Nation homestead, the architecture was all slopes and angles with a plentiful amount of red accents contrasting with the black roof and white plaster. Expensive, plentiful, but knew just how to get right to the point. Just the way Hiroshi Sato liked it.

Asami briefly wondered how the staff kept up with the place when she and her father were only there a few weeks out of the year, if that. It was far too big for her and she always felt like she was living in a museum from the amount of antiquities and dust the place collected. Then Asami realised she didn’t care.

Hiroshi offered her his hand again, but his brow tightened when Asami refused it again. The cold shoulder sometimes felt a little too harsh, but frankly it wouldn’t matter in a few weeks.

A few more weeks and then Asami would be out of here. She couldn’t wait.

A tall man with black hair and amber eyes stood at the top of the steps. He wore his suit stiffly, like he was unused to it, but he still looked as handsome as ever.

“Mako.” Asami smiled at him ( _fiance,_ a cruel voice whispered inside her head), taking his hands in hers. 

Mako’s expression softened from the harder walls he usually kept up, allowing his face to seem welcoming for a change. “Asami, it’s… good to see you.”

“You too.” A beat passed. “You still have that scarf.”

“What? Oh, yeah. Never leave the house without it,” Mako laughed softly. “What happened to your hands?”

“Oh, ink spilled while we were sailing. I was… writing a letter.” They exchanged knowing glances.

“Asami!” A pair of strong arms nearly crushed the breath out of her. Asami laughed genuinely for the first time in what felt like days. “It’s so good to see you!”

Returning the hug, Asami replied, “It’s good to see you too, Bolin. I missed you guys.”

Bolin was dressed in a nice green suit that complemented his eyes. No matter what he seemed to wear, he always made whatever clothing he wore look like he was born into it. His brother, however, hadn't been so fortunate.

“Hiroshi,” Mako nodded his head at Asami’s father while Bolin stood up straighter and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“Son.” His voice made the word sound cold and distant. “How’s the team?”

“The team is good, sir. We made it to the semi-finals.”

“Good for you.”

The sudden drop of conversation made the air feel a lot more stifling than it really was, the humidity not part of the problem for once. Cricket-moths literally chirped.

“Well,” Bolin clapped his hands together. “Who’s ready for dinner?”

The food was a combination of hearty Earth Kingdom food and the spices of the Fire Nation. Even on one of the Fire Nation’s main tourist attractions did the cultures blend together.

The Fire Ferret’s waterbender, a stiff young man with blue eyes whose name Asami could hardly remember, a few of Hiroshi’s sponsors, and a handful of Fire Nation delegates that had befriended the Sato’s during vacations to Ember Island when Asami was younger were all gathered around the dinner table in seats specifically picked out for them.

Asami sat next to her father, who was at the head of the table, with her on his right. Mako was next to Asami, with Bolin on his other side. Hiroshi got to talking business with his acquaintances while Asami caught up with her future husband. 

“So how is the city?” Mako began.

“Just the same as you left it,” Asami laughed briskly. She sipped at her soup, wincing at the temperature, and washed it down with a mouthful of tea. “They’re updating the library, adding an entire new section just dedicated to spirits and things like that.”

“Really? I ought to check it out sometime. That stuff always fascinated me when I was a kid, even though I know that they aren’t real.” Mako took a sip of his tea.

“Mako, spirits are real. Remember the time I saw a kuchisake onna at the waterfront? I barely got away with my life! Two-Toed Ping was there, he could back me up if you asked him,” Bolin described, waving his chopsticks in the air.

Mako snorted in response. “Two-Toed Ping is about as reliable as a circle is square. I bet you just had one too many bowls of noodles and ran into someone’s grandma.”

“Are you kidding me? She was wearing all white and was holding a fan in front of her face, and when I walked past her she asked me, ‘ _Do you think I’m pretty?’_ ” He imitated the voice of a woman, though it cracked at the end. “But I remembered the stories Mom and Dad told us so I just walked away and didn’t say anything, and when I looked back she was just gone! Like she had disappeared into thin air. Just. Like. A spirit.”

“Mhm,” Mako poked at his elephant koi. “Even if that was an actual kuchisake onna-which it wasn’t!” he said before Bolin could protest. “Those things are native to the Fire Nation. What would one be doing in Republic City?”

While Bolin and Mako bickered, Asami prodded at her soup. Her stomach was roiling, not unlike the waves from the journey to the island. She was really going to miss this, hanging out with her friends and having dinner with her father.

“Hey, ‘Sami.” Mako had apparently finished his discussion with his brother and was now glancing worriedly at Asami. “Did you finish the… you know…”

Asami laughed softly, but there wasn’t mirth beneath it. “Yeah, it’s in my jacket. It has everything we talked about, and I already packed everything I need. Did you finish yours?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did, and Bolin knows what we’re gonna do.” Mako picked at his food again, but he had apparently lost his appetite just as much as she had. He was just arranging it around his plate, a child playing with his food.

Bolin looked at them and hushed his voice. “Are you guys talking about the-” He waved his chopsticks around. When Mako and Asami both confirmed his suspicion, Bolin’s brow softened. “So you’re actually going to go through with it, huh.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Asami said. Her and Mako’s engagement happened too fast; they had only known each other a few days before starting dating, and the engagement just a year later. Maybe they loved each other, Asami certainly cared for Mako and his brother, but it might not have been… romantic. Only time could really tell, but they were both too busy working on their careers to spare themselves that luxury. Asami had decided to go ahead with the marriage, Mako and Bolin needed the yuans and it really wasn’t like Asami was going to be able to spend all of the money she had in her bank account in a lifetime, right?

Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

Asami’s letter was directed to her father and was to be sent after her and Mako’s ‘honeymoon’, its contents being an apology to her father and her wanting to go off into the world and start her own business. She’d start small, make herself a little mechanics shop, and maybe expand from there. She had told her father to not try and find her, though she knew he would anyway, but don’t blame Mako. He was innocent in this, it was her idea to try and give him the money, but he wasn’t going to take the fall for her decisions. She had been thinking about doing this for a long time, anyway.

She had been very adamant about her leaving being her own choice, though whether Hiroshi would believe it or not would be up to him.

The sound of a spoon clinking on a glass sounded through the room. Three taps, followed by two quicker ones. The talking hushed, leaving the room quiet.

Hiroshi cleared his throat and stood up. “Here’s to my daughter, Asami,” Hiroshi said proudly, raising his glass in the air. The dark wine inside sloshed in the light of the fading sunset, the lamps emitting a warm orange glow. “And to my future son-in-law, Mako.”

People around the table raised their glasses. “Here, here!” They all called out while Asami and Mako smiled sheepishly, exchanging looks out of the corner of their eyes.

“And here’s to a successful wedding and an even more successful marriage. May you both live in happiness and enjoy each other’s company.” Another round of ‘here, here’ sounded in the room. The speech was short and to the point, just the way the Sato’s liked it.

After Hiroshi sat down, dessert was passed out and eaten and before she knew it dinner was over. 

When Asami was turning to head to her rooms, a hand settled on her shoulder. She stiffened and the hand was removed to reveal her father on the other end. “Asami,” he began. “I hope tomorrow goes well, at the party and the rehearsal dinner.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Asami smiled at her father, but guilt tinged at her heart. “Before the party Mako, Bolin, and I are going down to the beach.”

“Of course,” Hiroshi said. “Just make sure to be back in time to get ready.”  
  


“Yeah, I know. Goodnight, Dad.”  
  
“Goodnight, dear. Oh, and Asami?” Hiroshi called out.

“Yes, Dad?’

“I won’t make it to the party tomorrow; I have a meeting that I just can’t miss.”

“Oh, okay.”

Asami walked with Mako and Bolin to their rooms and bade them goodnight. “So are we still on for tomorrow? At the beach?”

Mako grinned. “Yeah, it sounds fun. One last time to hang out, you know?”

Bolin lightly punched Mako’s arm. “Can’t wait. Sand between my toes and in my clothes is _so_ much fun.” Mako just scowled at his brother and rubbed his arm.

“Night, ‘Sami.” 

“Goodnight, Bolin,” Asami said. “Mako.” He nodded back.

When Asami closed the door to her room, she sat down at her vanity and pulled down her hair, her pointy shoes quickly following. Now relieved from the pain on her feet, Asami flopped down onto the cushiony bed with a groan. Even though she had done nothing but sit around and write all day, her body was sore from being rocked around in a ship. 

She changed into a red silken robe, the slippery fabric smooth on her skin. Before bed, Asami decided she was in the mood for a cup of tea. 

Chamomile was found in a cupboard and the kettle quickly began whistling, a small stove heated up the water in Asami’s other room. Soon enough, Asami was blowing on a cup of chamomile tea.

It was a tad stuffy in her rooms after making the tea, so Asami stepped out onto a balcony overlooking the sea. The sun had already dipped under the horizon and a chill had wormed its way through the humid Fire Nation air. The moon hung already in the sky, only a few nights away from being full, and its light shined over the ocean.

The Sato’s mansion was sat right next to the ocean and had been hideously expensive to obtain. It had belonged to the descendants of some Fire Nation nobility, back in the days of before Firelord Zoryu dismantled the clan system, and required quite the renovations. It had been a passion project of Hiroshi and Yasuko’s and they fixed it up with love that still shined through the plaster they put on the walls to this day.

Asami had helped with the paint job, she remembered fondly. Her mother had jokingly sworn that paint still speckled her hair for months after.

As she gazed over the water, enjoying the breeze playing through her hair, the birds seemed to be singing to one another, low and mournful. It was enchanting and soothed Asami’s nerves.

  
Asami concentrated on the call. It was distant and, if Asami’s ears were working correctly, it was coming from the ocean. No, it wasn’t a bird, she thought. It reminded Asami of underwater recordings of flying dolphin fish and whales that she listened to once in a museum. It made less and less sense the more she thought about it, but as quickly as it started it stopped.

She lay her elbows on the balcony edge and listened for the strange call again. A few minutes passed by of listening, but all Asami heard was waves crashing against the shore. 

Her listening had been long enough to let Asami’s tea cool off, the lukewarm liquid not to Asami’s taste. It had been near boiling a moment ago, she supposed more time had passed than she thought. Grumbling, Asami turned to her room to maybe attempt to revive this liquidy excuse for a tea, when something flickered in the corner of her vision.

It must have been that flying dolphin fish Asami had heard earlier because she could’ve sworn that it had been a tail.

^^^

The next day, Asami woke up bright and early to a chattering fire ferret digging at her side. “Pabu!” Asami pushed Bolin’s pet to the side, but despite her efforts, Pabu kept trying to curl up around her neck.

The door to her room opened. “Pabu, where’d you- oh hey, ‘Sami.”

  
Asami snorted, but the gesture was mostly to prevent her from sneezing. “Morning, Bolin.”

“Morning,” Bolin grinned. “Guess Pabu must’ve snuck off last night, sorry ‘bout that.”  
  
Asami’s nose tickled and she sneezed anyway. Sneezing again, Asami complained, “Come get your pet before I turn him into a scarf.” 

The threat was empty, but Bolin obliged, scooping up the fire ferret off of Asami’s bed. Pabu immediately nuzzled up against Bolin’s neck.

Mako poked his head through the doorway. “Hey, Asami, have you seen- oh you found him.”  
  
Asami sneezed yet another time, eliciting a laugh from the brothers. “Are we still on for the beach or not?” She asked pointedly.

Mako walked closer to stand next to his brother and scratched Pabu’s forehead, who chittered happily. “I’m still down if you guys are,” he said. Bolin nodded in agreement. “What’s for breakfast?”

After a quick meal of hotcakes and fresh berries, Asami pulled on her swimsuit, casually tossing some loose clothing over the black nit fabric. Packing up a few towels, a hairbrush, and the latest mediocre romance novel from Republic City, she was ready to go.

There was a beach right next to the Sato mansion, but it was too small and quiet to have much fun on, so they all collectively decided to walk to the public beaches instead. Hiroshi would probably have a word with Asami about it late, but honestly she couldn’t bring herself to care. Once there, they were greeted to the wonderful sight of gulls snatching up snacks, kids yelling at one another, food vendors yelling out propositions, and the occasional earthbender sending sand flying.  
  
This beach was loud, messy, and imperfect. Asami had a good feeling about today.

While she was laying out a towel to lay on, Bolin crashed into the water, Mako quick on his heels, both of them sending sea water flying. Pabu, uninterested in getting his fur wet, curled up on a dent of the towel in the sand, content with sunbathing for the time being.

“Boys,” Asami muttered, but the corners of her mouth tilted up in fondness. Asami loved them both. They were practically her brothers, but that was it. She really wasn’t looking forward to sending that letter. But for now, she wasn’t going to worry about that damnable letter, so Asami tucked into the most recent adaptation of _Love Amongst the Dragons_.

Bolin waded his way closer to shore. “Hey, ‘Sami, you should join us? The water’s great!” A cheeky grin had wormed its way onto his face that Asami wasn’t very appreciative of, but she decided to indulge him anyway.

Asami cut her way through the water. A small splash sounded behind her that Asami paid no mind to, much to her ultimate detriment. Mako was standing next to his brother, his face carefully composed, but his eyes twinkled in a way that made Asami cautious. “Whatever it is you’re planning, just make sure you don’t-”

  
Water dumped onto her, soaking Asami completely. She gasped and flung her hair out of her face to see what had happened. Bolin hadn’t suddenly become a waterbender, he apparently earthbent a bowl out of the sand and placed it underwater. The splash Asami had heard? That was him levitating it out of the ocean, filled to the brim, and preparing to dunk her.

Glaring under the mess of her hair, Asami finished her sentence. “Get my hair wet. Don’t get my hair wet so that I don’t have to wash it for tonight.”  
  
Both brother’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, then guilt. They weren't feeling that guilty when Asami grabbed the still floating bowl from the air and used it to splash them both.

“Hey, no fair!” Mako laughed, but raised his arms in defense. Bolin immediately began his counter attack, using his wide arms to cause miniature tsunamis at Asami.  
  
“You guys are both benders!” Asami spluttered, holding the bowl in front of her face as a shield. “I’m not!” The bowl crumbled under her hands, the sand discreetly dissolving from her attacks. Uh oh.  
  
“I’m a firebender!” Mako complained. “What can I even do soaking wet?” He lunged and tossed Asami over his shoulder, making them both laugh. Bolin tackled Mako around the waist, sending all three of them underwater. 

When they all finally gained their senses and seized their water war, Bolin grinned at them. ”So who’s hungry?” 

After grabbing a few snacks from the stalls lining the beach, they all nestled in and dug into their food. They were quiet for a few minutes while they ate. Bolin held his hand out and, after shooing Pabu away from his snack, and the sand underneath him to form a small mound.

“At least while we’re here, I can practice my sandbending.” Bolin concentrated at the sand pile, which was slowly but surely beginning to form itself into what looked like an Earth Kingdom pre-war defense tower and a manor resting beside it. Asami had studied a similar design in school.

Asami raised her hard to her chin, thinking. “You got the basic shape down but you’re missing a few courtyards. Maybe add a pond or two for turtleducks.”

“Aren’t those meant to be Fire Nation?” Bolin asked, genuinely interested.

“Yeah, but before the hundred-year war, a lot of Earth Kingdom aristocracy liked to copy the Fire Nation royal palace. When the war started, most of the ponds were destroyed, but a few are still around today,” Asami said, shrugging. She polished off the last bit of her sandwich.

“How did you even know that?” Mako asked.

Asami laughed good naturedly. “I had a lot of spare time when I was a kid.” She tapped the side of her temple. “Endless amounts of useless facts in here.”

“Guys look!” Bolin pointed at the ocean. On the horizon was a handful of ships coming and going and…

The flying dolphin fish were jumping up and into the waves, their fins glistening with sea water. It was a beautiful sort of dance they were doing. Watching them weave in and out of each other was mesmerizing to watch, in an unusual way. 

Asami thought about what had occured last night, that unusual call from the ocean. “Hey guys, weird question, but do you know what kind of noises flying dolphin fish make?”

Bolin glanced at her. “I’m not sure. I’m pretty sure they sound like Pabu when he wants something.” He lightly scratched Pabu on the back, who was napping soundly on the towel. “Isn’t that right, Pabu?” He cooed.

“What’s the question for, anyway?” Mako asked. Asami quickly recounted the events from last night, down to the tea cooling off before she could take a sip.

  
“Do you think it could’ve been whales?” 

Asami rubbed her chin in thought. “I don’t think so; whales can only communicate underwater.”

“Spirits?” Bolin offered. Asami blanched; she hadn’t thought about that before. She supposed it made sense, but Asami was still on the fence on if spirits existed or not. They watched the flying dolphin fish slowly fade out, finally crashing into a final wave and disappearing.

“Maybe.”  
  
“If spirits are real then I‘ll owe you both twenty gold yuans,” Mako complained.

When they were all done with their lunch, Mako said, “How about we go on back to the house and get a little bit of rest before the party?” Their day had been full of sand and crashing into the waves, and now they needed time to get ready for the party.

They packed up their stuff in more time than Asami would’ve liked (Bolin had sandbent at Mako again, who figured out how to concentrate his firebending to the sand and tried to bend the heat but only succeeded at making glass, and at giving Bolin superheated liquid ammunition) and they were soon on their way back, endeavours aside.

Them traveling back was mostly talking, cursing when being tripped by any holes in the road, and laughing.

Bolin sent a final attack at Mako, who coughed and mithered. “I don’t like sand,” Mako grumbled. “It’s coarse, rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere.” He punctuated his statement by ruffling the grains out of his hair, only succeeding in making Bolin and Asami laugh.

When they reached the estate, they all went to their separate quarters to rest. Asami tried napping but couldn’t put her mind at ease. Every time she attempted at silencing her mind, she kept coming back to what Bolin said about spirits. What if he was right? There were multiple accounts of spirits in the Fire Nation, some even more so than the Earth Kingdom or Water Tribes.

Sighing, Asami gave up on her attempt for sleep and got up to search the wall of books on the side of her room. When nothing else worked, research was usually the best option.

And besides, it wasn't like it could hurt, right?

Asami meandered her way through the numerous volumes, eventually stopping on a thick red book, the leather worn and soft. It was neatly titled _Spirit Tales Throughout the Centuries_ in elegant golden calligraphy. Perfect for Asami’s ventures.

She sat herself down in an overstuffed red velvet chair (everything was red in the Fire Nation) and opened her book while the radio played lightly in the background, skimming through the pages while she took in the information.

The minutes passed by, and before Asami knew it the radio announcer told the listeners that it was four past noon. She glanced up, surprised at how much time had passed already. Asami had reached a potential lead in her book; there was a small passage about a peaceful water spirit in the Fire Nation, resting in a small fishing town. The main problem was that it was a lake spirit, but Asami would have plenty of time to figure anything out after the party.

The vanity stood proud in the afternoon sun. The velvet red chair creaked when Asami sat down onto it and she adjusted herself on it, studying herself in the antique mirror. Her hair had miraculously been able to maintain itself, despite its earlier encounter with seawater, but would have to be teased back into a flattering shape. She would worry about that later and decided to start with the makeup.

Rubbing primer onto her face, Asami brushed the eyeshadow onto her eyes, opting for a darker smokey look instead of her usual purple. Kohl was then smeared onto her lid. Deep red lipstick soon followed. Asami decided to put pale peridot earrings, both because they matched her eyes and to honour her Earth Kingdom heritage.

She focused on what she could do with her hair. She brushed it out and experimented by twisting it into a few different styles. Asami eventually decided on an elegant manner that was pulled back to the base of her skull, a few pieces of hair carefully curled to frame her face.

Asami pulled on a smooth, silken, Fire Nation red dress that clung to her hips but flowed around her legs. In another life it might have been a heavier ballroom dress, but the fabric was light enough for the thick air and swished around her feet.

There was a heavy golden necklace hidden into a drawer that had belonged to Yasuko. There were small rubies placed in a lotus flower design, but the necklace opened up to reveal a photo of Asami and her parents when she was little. On the back of the photo was a small message written by Asami’s mother in her elegant handwriting.

_You are my greatest creation, Love Mom._

The gold and jewels must have been priceless, but they weren’t what made it so special to her.

Before Asami started for the parlour, she studied herself again. Extending a pale hand (still dyed with dark ink), she selected a long and sharp hairpin that was adorned with jewels and gilded with gold, its core being a pure platinum.

Satisfied, Asami walked out to the parlour where Mako and Bolin were waiting on the couch. Mako stood up to greet her. “Asami! You look good.”  
  
Asami smiled. “Thanks, you too.” Mako looked like he was more comfortable in this suit, it clung better to his shoulders and now he wasn’t swimming in his shirt. 

Footsteps echoed through the hall beside them, heavy wooden soles of formal shoes stepping to the ground. Mako subconsciously straightened his back.

“Hey, Dad.” Hiroshi was as clean-cut as always, one hand professionally placed on his jacket lapel.

Hiroshi nodded at his daughter. “Asami.” He slipped a golden pocket watch out from his jacket and checked the time. “Quarter past five; if you take the car you’ll be there in no time.”

^^^

The party took place on a local nobleman’s pleasure boat, and for the most part was fairly tame. There were decorations done in a rich red with fine embroidery, sashes hung from the railings, fairy lights strung up over their heads. A band was playing jazz in the corner while people milled about, champagne in hand.

Asami mentally prepared herself for hours of small talk. Hiroshi had been guided away to talk to some of his business friends, leaving Asami, Mako, and Bolin to themselves. Scooping up a few glasses of drink from a passing waiter, Asami handed them to her friends. 

“While we’re here, we might as well enjoy ourselves,” Asami said. The plum wine was dry and puckered her mouth. _Perfect for the occasion,_ Asami thought mirthlessly.

“So… what do we do?” Mako shuffled uncomfortably. No matter how well tailored a suit he could be wearing, he always managed to stick out like a sore thumb just from his awkwardness. It was one of the things that had made Asami fall for him.

Asami sipped at her wine. “We just talk and pick at the tiny foods. Sometimes we can put money in the box up front.”

“Great fun for the whole family,” Bolin said dryly, making Asami snort. Pabu scurried up around his leg and sat himself around Bolin’s shoulders. Bolin scratched the fire ferret’s forehead affectionately.

Mako sighed, swished around his drink. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

Asami nodded solemnly. She patted his arm apologetically. “I’ve been to hundreds of these kinds of events, it’s really just best to smile and nod half the time.”  
  
“Smile and nod,” Mako echoed quietly. “Yeah, I could do that.”  
  
Smile and nod. Story of her life.

The band started playing a waltz, erhu ringing out in the evening air. Mako set down his drink and offered a hand to Asami. He raised an eyebrow, lips curling into what he thought was probably a suave smirk.

Asami smiled and allowed him to pull her to the dance floor. When she had first met him, Mako would’ve been more graceful if he had been born with two left feet, but over the time they had known each other, he slowly learned how to not step on her toes. Mako may not have been the best dancer she had ever met, but he was willing to learn, which was a lot more than any other of Asami’s dance partners.

They swirled around one another, twisted through the other couples. After settling into a rhythm, they became more coordinated. “Asami,” Mako said, brow furrowing seriously. “Are you sure you want to, or really can, go through with this?” They bypassed their way towards the band, where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Mako.” Asami lightly squeezed her arms around Mako’s shoulders reassuringly. “If I hadn’t wanted to do this then neither of us would be standing here at the moment. Let’s just enjoy the night while it lasts, okay?”

Mako’s brow relaxed, though a tinge of worry managed to appear in his eyes. 

A few more minutes of swaying passed by and the band stopped playing with an elegant flourish. A moment of applause and a more lively tune picked up, one that made Asami want to tap her foot to. 

They danced for what seemed like longer than it probably was- Bolin joining them with Pabu close at his heels- but soon enough Asami was all danced out.

She collapsed in one of the chairs set aside for the dinner portion of the night, Mako and Bolin following her lead with relief. She laughed quietly to herself and looked over at the mostly declined sun to watch the waves and sip at wine.

Mako and Bolin were talking to themselves, a little bit of pro-bending mixed with occasional conflicting opinions, and a dash of brotherly bickering. Asami paid no mind to their conversation, content to watching the sea while the music provided suitable background noise.

A merchant’s ship was sailing nearby, maybe half a mile away from them. Its shape was silhouetted against the remainder of the sunlight and a smaller, more modern, motorboat was steering itself away from the other ship, likely to shore.

A chill spread itself through Asami’s core, and she was suddenly glad that she brought her shawl, a woolen red thing that was worn on the inside.

Wrapping it around her shoulders, Asami folded her arms across her chest. A light splash sounded to the side, where the ocean was. She thought nothing of it, but when Asami listened closely a hollow thunk was heard, the sound of wood clanking together. Asami stood up to investigate it, leaving Mako and Bolin to their conversation, and walked to the railing, gazing turning into a keener eye. She concentrated her hearing, attempting to listen again for that thunk.

That strange thud and splash wasn’t the only thing that caught Asami’s attention, the unusual call from the previous night was keening its way to Asami’s ear. 

It wasn’t as mystical or thought provoking as it had been last night; time had passed by like it was nothing, but now she was painfully aware of every second ticking by. There was no trance, only a heightening feeling of anxiety backed up by sorrowful undertones that sent bottomless pits into her chest that never seemed to end. She held her breath, an insatiable cold locking her in place.

“ _Get away,_ ” the voice seemed to hiss. “ _Save yourself, leave!”_

The scary thing was that it almost seemed human.

Asami was trying to figure out what the voice was trying to warn her of when a grappling hook planted itself into the railing next to her.

She gasped and spun around, the spell freezing her broke, and dropped her wine glass. The indigo-purple liquid splattered on the hem of her dress as crystal shards of glass shattered everywhere. Asami’s instincts screamed at her to _get away,_ just as the voice instructed, and she raced to find Mako and Bolin.

“Asami, hey, what’s-” Bolin’s brow was wrinkled with concern but it fell and was replaced by a steely look of determination.

“Where’s Mako?” The words could barely come out of her mouth. Asami’s heart was pounding so fast everything seemed to shake, and she wanted to throw up. 

“Bathroom.” Bolin placed an arm in front of her, tucking her away. By now more people were aware of what was happening and the band had stopped playing, anxious murmurs were rising. “What-where did that even come from?”  
  


Asami was still being rocked by the gut twinging call, every part of her urging to get somewhere safe. Asami hated being the damsel in distress, but it still felt like her entire body was rebelling against her. “I’m not sure- there was a splash and then it just appeared, I-”

More hooks implanted themselves into the wooden railings, adjusting themselves as the person below made sure they were secure.

The grappling hook that had first appeared creaked into the wood and a head covered by a felt hat and purple bandana popped up. The man swung himself over the railing and his heavy boots crunched on the shattered glass leftover from Asami’s drink. He was wearing a combination of black and various shades of dark purples, reds, and blues. A waterskin and a broad, hooked sword hung from his hips. A silver hoop earring twinkled from the top of his ear in the fairy lights.

Bandana surveyed his dumbstruck audience. His eyes crinkled in amusement as he spread his arms. “Ladies and gentlemen, congratulations! You’re being robbed!”

^^^

More of Bandana’s friends appeared on the ship, every one of them wearing a face covering of a sort and some shade of purple. They walked around brandishing a variety of weapons, more than a few holding out fabric bags.

“Now, if you would be so kind, please put any and all valuables into the bags my compatriots have so selflessly provided, and no one will have to be hurt!” The pirate, that’s surely what he was, was leisurely stalking his way through the crowd of anxious party-goers. The sword was loosely gripped in a gloved hand, but Asami noticed how his muscles tensed under the jacket. Under a careful air of casualness was surely a deadly python cobra, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

The party-goers began to protest, but a few of the pirates ran up to them. One of them, a lanky man with a thin frame and yellow-green eyes ( _green?_ ), ignited his hands in flames so hot they were a white-yellow. The other, a man with deeply tanned skin and broad shoulders, undid a loop of metal wiring. Metalbenders? In the Fire Nation?

Who even were these pirates?

Asami glanced around, heart still pounding sickeningly. Women were forced to give up any jewelry they had, men expensive watches and wallets. Some pirates were even looting through bags and taking a few bottles of wine.

Something caught her eye from the entrance to the lower deck. A flash of an old red scarf.

Mako.

Asami turned her attention back to the main threat. Bandana was wading his way through the crowd, occasionally plucking a jewel or two from someone and stuffing his pockets full. Bolin’s arm was still in front of her and Asami noticed the way he dug his heels into the wooden floor; an earthbending stance, Asami recognized.

Bolin tensed even more and suddenly she knew why. Bandana had made his way to Asami and was beginning to look her down in a way that made her skin crawl. 

“That’s a lovely necklace you have there, mind if I take a look?” He was close enough that Asami could see that one of his eyes was a dark blue, the other a paler shade, and smeared with kohl. He started to reach for Asami’s neck when Bolin blocked Bandana’s way, a stubborn wall that refused to be moved.

“Son, get out of my way. There doesn't need for any blood to be spilt tonight.”

When Bolin refused to comply, Bandana sighed and snapped his fingers. The metalbender flicked up his wires and knives, mirth lively in his eyes.

Bolin swallowed hard. He wasn’t a metalbender; he couldn’t bend anything as pure as metal or jewels, but he shouldered his weight anyway and prepared himself for a fight.

As it turned out, Bolin didn’t have to fight. Mako had run out and started launching fireballs at Bandana.

With movements so quick and skillful Asami could barely pick them up, Bandana let out a thin, winding stream of water from his waterskin powerful enough to knock Mako over. He stomped his foot and snapped his wrists and Mako’s hands and feet were covered in hard ice. Mako’s face turned red and his wrists began steaming.

Bandana released an icicle that (surely sharp enough to cut through a man clean) in the air and hovered it threateningly over Mako’s neck, forcing him to stop struggling or else he would earn himself a slit throat.

The metalbender from before wrapped Bolin in wires and sent him to the floor next to his brother quicker than Asami could blink or do something useful, like fight back or protest. 

Sighing again, Bandana shook his head and said, “I told you, we didn’t come here to hurt anyone.” He turned back to Asami and lightly plucked the locket off of her chest, making her catch her breath.

She smacked his arm away and curled her hands around the locket protectively, but Bandana made another icicle and hung it over Bolin, making it dance dangerously.

“No! Here, I’ll give it to you, just don’t-don’t hurt them, okay?” Asami’s fingers fumbled as she undid the clamp to the locket.

Bandana’s hand was held out expectedly when Asami had an epiphany: the picture. “Hold on.” She clawed the latch open and removed the photo from its frame, suddenly grateful that Hiroshi had the good thought to set it in glass. She was scared that she might tear it. “Here.” Asami handed the now empty locket to Bandana.

“Thank you kindly,” Bandana said cooly and slipped the lotus necklace into a hidden back pocket. “Now what do you have there?”

“Just a picture,” Asami choked out. “It’s worthless to you.”

  
  
“That depends.” Bandana eyed one of the other pirates who wrestled the encased photo out of her hands and to his leader. Bandana held up the photo from the backside of it, reading Yasuko’s handwriting out loud. “ _‘Asami, you are my greatest creation. Love, Mom.’_ Now that’s sweet.” He flipped it over to reveal the portrait of Asami and her parents that was taken when she was little.

Bandana’s eyes widened when he saw the gold vein he had struck. “Sato,” he whispered.

A chill crawled its way up Asami’s spine. What had she done?

“Sato,” Bandana repeated. “Well then, Miss Sato, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He took off his cap and bowed comically. When he raised himself up, Asami could tell that he was grinning under the mask. “I think you’ll be coming with me.”

“No!” Mako had broken one of his hands free and let out a quick burst of flame from his fist. Bandana blocked his offense with the icicles, melting it in a second to block the fire and froze Mako’s wrists together. “Asami!” Bandana flicked his wrist and an inch of ice covered Mako’s mouth. 

“Act up again and I might just cover your nose next time!” he hissed out, and the weight of his words proving that it was no empty threat.

“I’ll go with you, please don’t hurt them.” The shivering had started to calm down, but now they rocketed Asami’s body again. _No! Save yourself!_ She felt horribly selfish for thinking that, but it was the only thing she could think about except for placing one foot in front of the other as she followed Bandana to the railing. 

“Asami!” Bolin’s eyes were wild, frustrated from being taken down so easily and because there was nothing there for him to bend.

“Bolin, it’s okay,” Asami tried smiling, but it felt more like a grimace. “I love you guys, okay? Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”  
  


“No, wait!” Bolin struggled against his bindings, now loosening as the metalbender finally released his hold.

“I promise I’ll be back.” Asami raised herself over the railing and swung her legs over the wood, minding the sharp edges of the grappling hooks. 

“I promise.”

And with that Asami lowered herself into one of the small lifeboats that the pirates had used to come to the boat, using the rope from the hooks. Bandana had already dropped down, along with his colleagues.

The lifeboat rocked as Asami dropped into it, and Bandana offered her his arm, which she refused, choosing instead to sit down onto one of the seats and curl into herself, wrapping the shawl around her shoulders even tighter. _What had she done?_

Bandana plopped down next to her and pulled down his mask to take a hearty swig from a (likely stolen) flask that had been hidden inside a pocket. He flicked a hand at his crewmates, who had been watching him to see to his next orders, and they started moving. “Well, Miss Sato,” he grinned at her. The bandana had been hiding a square jaw covered with a layer of stubble. “Since it seems we’re going to be getting to know one another, you can call me Tulok.”

Asami looked away into the churning water. She was shaking so badly now she felt like throwing up.

_What had she done?_

Something occurred to her: Hiroshi. What would her father say when he found out? What would he _do?_ If Hiroshi had his way, the entire ocean would be ripped up looking for her, and that just wasn’t something she- or Mako- needed considering their plan.

  
Mako! Oh, Mako. She didn’t deserve him or Bolin, or to tear apart their lives like the parasite she was. All she had wanted to do was help them, and now they both could be seriously hurt because of her.

_What had she done?_

The lifeboats were docking. With a jolt, Asami realised that the lifeboats came from the merchant's ship she had spotted before. It was neatly titled _Tagaka’s Blade_ in white paint on the side of it. Why did pirates have such a nice boat? There were no colours from any nation, just a plain white. It had probably been stolen. As she stepped onto the main deck, Asami was escorted below deck by the crook of her arm, she struggled against it but its grip only tightened. She passed several areas meant for storage, with tied down boxes and crates to keep them from skating around the deck. Everything was too neat, too organized for a ship owned by outlaws.

Very strange, but that wasn’t what Asami should be focusing on right now. There were more prominent problems facing her.

One of the pirates escorting her, the one with his hand firmly on her arm, yanked her to the side and shoved her into a brig, where she fell to her knees, shivering. His eyes leered at her, making her gut roil. He turned to Tulok, said, “I dunno about this one, boss. It’s bad luck to have a woman on board a ship. We should just toss her overboard.” 

What?

Tulok scoffed in response. “Maybe dunderheads like you would think that, but that is strictly for Plan B.” Tulok veered his head and kneeled down to where Asami had fallen. “Don’t give us a reason to use Plan B on you, okay sweetheart? Plan B is for troublemakers so as long as you’re not a troublemaker you’ll be just fine.” Tulok’s pale eye winked at her before he stood up and shut the brig door, leaving Asami alone to her shuddering.

_What had she done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! the plan is for five chapters (i already have two and a half written) but there is room for flexibility
> 
> tags will be updated as the story progresses, but do feel free to let me know any thoughts, questions, or comments you may have 💙


	2. Lady Sato's Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back again with another chapter! this one won't be as long as the first, but where it lacks in quantity i hope it makes up for with quality
> 
> some content warnings for this chapter: some violence (it's over very quickly), blood, and slight suicidal thoughts (nothing extreme)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

No matter how tightly she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, Asami couldn’t shake the deep, bone-chilling cold. For a ship that was so dry and well kept, where Asami was being held was under the deck in what was practically a cage, its wooden bars exposing her to anyone that happened to walk past. A brig, she recalled. Her knowledge of ship terminology was all but useless in a situation like this.

The cell was barren, save for a few rucksacks nestled in the corner and a bucket that Asami cringed to think about its use, and was next to a door with rickey hinges that opened and closed with the wind. A small window that was open to the elements loomed over her head that sent chills across her skin.

Asami curled up on top of the threadbarren bags and pulled her knees to her chest. She was still shuddering from… whatever had happened. Asami knew that she should be trying to do  _ something, _ like trying to plan her way out of here or figuring out a way to fight back, but that hissing voice kept urging her to get out, to sit in the same place, and maybe, _ just maybe,  _ Asami could find herself leaving this alive. 

The pirates, while organized and followed leadership well, were still well armed and could clearly fight off anyone who’s skills were less than their own. They were a very mismatched group, benders from every nation, but knew how to work together.

What puzzled Asami was the variety of their skills. A metalbender? Those were usually found only in one in ten earthbenders, and most of them spent their days in Republic City or Zhaofu working as architects or in the police force. 

She didn’t particularly care for the way he had grabbed her, or that comment.

_ “It’s bad luck to have a woman on board a ship. We should just toss her overboard.”  _ Very old fashioned, and the only place that Asami could think of to have those views was the Earth Kingdom. But what was he doing in the Fire Nation?

Asami had never seen flames that consistently white yellow or a firebender with such greenish eyes. That firebender was definitely mixed, just like her, and Asami didn’t doubt that he had the potential to produce lighting with flames that focused and bright. But how did he learn to perfect his craft in such a concentrated way? Especially if he had Earth Kingdom heritage as she suspected.

They were certainly an odd bunch, but they weren’t what really scared Asami.

Tulok, in the short, unfortunate time Asami had known him, was a viper curled up and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Even the best probender couldn’t make moves that quick and nimble, nor ice anything with that much precision in so few seconds. He kept up an easy atmosphere and acted courteous but didn’t try to pretend that he couldn't skewer Asami with a shard of ice just by flicking his fingers, had he wished to do so.

Asami was certain that might be why he seemed to be the ringleader around here. Tulok made sure that he was the authority; Asami remembered the way his followers shifted and obeyed his orders almost instantaneously.

And the name of the ship.  _ Tagaka’s Blade _ . That was a Water Tribe name, one that Asami vaguely recognized that itched at her brain. But again, what was a Water Tribe ship doing in the Fire Nation, unless Tulok and his crew had stolen it.

Tagaka, Tagaka, what could it mean?

Asami’s head began pounding and she laid down onto her side, still shaking like a leaf, and managed to get a few uncomfortable hours of sleep.

^^^

Asami woke up in the middle of the night (early morning?) to find a crook in her neck and seaspray coming through the small window above her. Long minutes stretched by when the call returned to her, her eyes widening but soon closing, letting it . Her breath caught in her throat as it wound its way through the window from the ocean and into her ears.

It calmed her, relaxed her limbs and allowed warmth to flow through them, despite the cool air in her cell. Her shudders slowed and stopped altogether as its cadence reassured her.  _ I’m sorry, _ it said.  _ You need to be safe but you also need to be able to figure it out yourself. You can do it, Asami. _

She couldn’t explain it, but the euphoria hearing it again felt like coming home.

Asami straightened her back and sat up, the cogs to her mind already working together now that her mind was cleared. If she had been this clearheaded when she had been captured it would have been a lot more difficult for the pirates to take her, benders or no. 

A strand of hair fell, covering her eyes. Asami combed her hair back with her fingers while she was thinking in order to give her hands something to do. 

She was surveying her cells, looking for a potential weapon, when her hand touched cool metal. Her heart began pounding as she pulled out her gilded hairpin. Its jewels sparkled in the light of an almost full moon, but they weren’t why the hairpin could be so useful to her. It was a pure platinum, the one metal a bender couldn’t manipulate and maybe even strong enough to pick a lock..?

There was only one way to find out.

Asami stood up, her muscles stiff from disuse, and crouched down. The brig was still open to anyone passing by and, though the hall it was in was empty, she couldn't afford to take many chances. Asami crept to the brig door and studied the lock. It was a heavy iron lock, dusted with rust, and could probably be easily bent by any amatuer metalbender. But there were no metalbenders around to help her, so Asami raised her hairpin to experimentally poke inside of the lock.

A few minutes of frustrating picking passed by and Asami was tempted to give up. But she mustered her way through and was soon rewarded with a satisfying  _ click _ .

Blood pumped through her veins; Asami could  _ not _ afford to mess this up. She slowly opened the door, praying to whatever spirits that could be listening that the hinges wouldn’t squeak, and bated her breath. Asami poked her head out of the doorframe and surveyed the hall.

The floorboards creaked under Asami’s shoes, so she lowered herself, hairpin tight in hand, and edged her way to the upper deck. She wished that she had thought about her “plan” a bit more. What was she, a nonbender with a hairpin, supposed to do on a ragtag ship full of master benders from all over the world? Shake her little weapon and hope to scare them off? Obviously not, so she had to endorse one of the main lessons her parents had imparted on her: be clever about what she did.

Asami stepped her way quietly to the staircase and slowly, so slow it was practically painful, she raised herself on the stairs. Her heart was racing so fast that she felt like throwing up, but Asami swallowed her fear and continued.

The song from just minutes before encouraged her, and Asami gripped her makeshift weapon in determination. Her brow set fiercely; She will  _ not _ mess this up. 

And it wasn’t like there were very many other options for her to choose, anyway.

The salty air of the ocean greeted her as Asami reached the upper deck. A mixture of relief, happiness,  _ something _ , soared in her as she took in the wonderful sight of no one being there, save for a rogue parrot-serpent sleeping on the steering wheel of the ship. She quietly hurried her way to one of the small lifeboats, intending to not disturb the bird. ( _ There should be more, or at least larger lifeboats _ , Asami mentally chastised.  _ Someone could drown if there was an accident! _ But for now she was infinitely grateful that the boats were small enough for even the most inexperienced sailor like her to take control of.) She studied the sight before her and started thinking of ways to get the boat off of the ropes and with her hopefully inside of it.

As Asami worked at the toils of ropes and pulleys, the parrot-serpent sitting behind her shifted, unbeknownst to her. It opened a coal black eye and watched her keenly under a leathery brow. It ruffled its feathers and sat undisturbed, perfectly content with watching its future prey attempt to escape before it got too bored.

For now, at least.

Yes! Asami had managed to work the lifeboat free and gratefully climbed her way in, careful not to fall into the water beneath her. Was she actually going to escape? Asami had no idea, but her chest heaved from the exhilaration of her endeavour and she gripped the ropes and pulled them through the system of pulleys and weights, uncaring if it burned her still ink stained hands. 

If Asami never saw that snake-eyed Tulok or his crew again, it would be too soon.

_ Screeee!  _

Any hope that had been blossoming inside of her was snuffed out like the end of an ashy cigarette. She looked and saw that damnable parrot-serpent proudly barring its chest out with its head tilted back in screech. Asami fumbled her hands through the ropes and quickened her pace.

_ Screeee! _

“Hey!” One of the crewmates was bolting his way to Asami with more of his peers following behind her, more than a few groggy with sleep. ”C’mon, she’s gettin’ away!”

Asami felt arms wrap around her and lift her out of the lifeboat (it was finally loosening, she had been  _ so _ close!). She struggled against it and slammed her head back to look at her capture. Much to her detriment, and disappointment, it was the metalbender from before that had manhandled her and made that comment.  _ It’s bad luck to have a woman on board a ship. We should just toss her overboard, _ echoed through her mind, and Asami fought against him even harder.

Panicking, Asami bit the metalbender’s arm  _ hard _ , forcing him to release her. “Why, you little-” the metalbender shouted, grabbing his arm in pain. “If I had any common sense I would toss you to the sharks!” 

He lunged forward to try to grab her. Asami gripped her hairpin tightly in her hand in front of her and stabbed it at the man. He laughed at her. “What’re you gonna do? Try an’ stab  _ me _ , a metalbend-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. While he had raised his hand in order to try to bend the metal of Asami’s hairpin, the platinum sliced clean through the flesh of his neck. Blood spurted from his neck and Asami gasped and backed away. He fell to his knees and to his side, choking on his own blood, and eventually laid there, unmoving, with glassy eyes staring listlessly at the setting moon.

A moment of sickening silence stretched across the deck.  _ Did that really just happen? _ It seemed to say. Asami let out a gasping breath and tried to run back to the lifeboat, but one of the crewmates grabbed her upper arms and pulled them behind her, effectively holding her in place. Her hairpin was still in the metalbender’s neck, Asami realised, and now she was defenseless. She tried stomping onto her captor’s toes but he kicked the back of her knees, forcing her to the ground. He was still holding onto her arms in an uncomfortable position and she could feel the muscles stiffening up.

_ Screeee! _

The crew quieted down as Tulok emerged from the captain’s quarters, still in his night clothes. He was wearing a thin white shift and black drawstring pants, not something that one would usually wear in the cool night breeze, but he seemed to be accustomed to it. “Well how about that?” Tulok kneeled in front of Asami and grabbed her jaw tight in his hand. The amusement that had been present in his eyes before was gone, and now all that was left was a cold vexation. Tulok’s lip curled in a bitter smile, which was somehow scarier than if he straight up yelled at her.

Sighing, Tulok clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Miss Sato, I understand that we had a deal.” Asami jerked her head but Tulok held on tight, gripping the skin tight enough to bruise. She snarled at him instead. “Our  _ deal _ was that you wouldn’t cause any trouble and we wouldn’t have to hurt you. No  _ Plan B _ , you remember that?”

Tulok looked over at the metalbender’s body and shook his head again. “Poor Qiao. I’m starting to think that he might’ve had a point when he said that we should’ve thrown you overboard. He’s dead now but I think we could do something in his memory.” Tulok turned to his crew, releasing Asami’s chin, and stood up.

“I  _ think _ that we had a simple deal; we never  _ hurt _ anyone, all we had wanted was to just get a little richer!” Tulok spread his arms in the paling night. “Right?”

“Yeah!” His crew shouted.

“We weren’t going to hurt you, Miss Sato. All little ol’ Tulok wanted was just a ransom. Nobody  _ had _ to get hurt, certainly not poor Qiao,” he sneered, whipping back around to face Asami.

“I  _ think _ that we need a  _ public demonstration _ just to show that the Fifth Nation will not tolerate those that decided not to follow my orders, our lead!” Tulok shouted. His voice was getting louder, more determined, and rousing his crew up as well.

Asami’s blood ran cold. The Fifth Nation? She hadn’t even known that they were still around, much less still occupying water and ships. Was this the only ship they had or was the  _ Tagaka’s Blade _ part of a… larger armada? It would explain the name of Tulok’s ship, at least. 

Tagaka had been the pirate queen of the Fifth Nation, which had been a splinter of the Southern Water Tribe, and was diverse as it was terrifying. The fleet had been put to justice by the Avatar but Asami supposed that some of it must have survived the centuries. Very little of it remained in the history books, all but forgotten, but just enough for a revival.

Tulok must be a descendant of Tagaka, Asami decided. Very few benders can waterbend like that without a mediocrely impressive lineage, or years of intense practice.

_ I have a bad feeling about this, _ Asami thought morbidly.

“The Fifth Nation will be respected!” Another round of cheers. Tulok looked down at a still kneeling Asami, the light in his eyes glinting strangely. His face straightened out, the blank look hiding a calculating gaze. 

  
Tulok lowered his voice, manic undertones playing under his words. “An eye for an eye,” he said. His fingers twitched uncertainly and a thin layer of ice coated his hands. 

Asami widened her eyes and her heart pounded sickeningly. 

“But,” Tulok said cooly, “not now.” The ice melted and dripped by Tulok’s bare feet. 

As she sighed in relief, Tulok grinned maddeningly. “After all, our little demonstration wouldn’t be quite as effective without it being  _ public _ .

“We need to lure in a crowd with Miss Sato as bait. Just as they think they’re in the clear we tie Miss Sato to a cannonball or two and just-” Tulok’s fingers flicked the air- “ _ plop! _ ” Tulok let out a snicker, which his crew echoed.

Asami’s heart felt like it dropped to the bottom of the ocean, which may very well be where it very well could be later that day if she didn’t play her cards right.

Tulok stepped over Qiao’s body and to the ship railing. He clasped his arms behind his back and barely gave Asami a second glance as he said, “Put her away, and make sure she can’t get out this time.” 

He never looked back as Asami shouted and struggled against her captors.

A length of rope was firmly tied around Asami’s wrists and she was escorted to a different cell, this one now with no window, no bars, and a guard stationed at the door. She struggled the entire way there and tried kicking them, but eventually hung limp like a child having a tantrum. Asami was tossed casually like a rag doll onto the wooden floor.

At least this cell didn’t have a suspicious looking bucket.

The rope was bound tightly to her wrists and made her skin itch. If they had been any tighter they would surely cut off blood flow, but Asami had much more immediate problems at the moment. 

Her execution awaited her later that day, and soon. When Asami had been outside the sky was lightening, so she could have hours left.

Well, if there was anytime to get any tears out now would be the time. An empty, stilled feeling settled itself into Asami’s chest. What she was feeling could only be compared to one of peace, maybe tranquility had Asami been more religious, but also bitter in mourning. She wasn’t mourning herself, rather those close to her. 

Asami mourned what time that would soon be taken from her, her plans to run away with Mako to some nowhere town that they wouldn’t be found in now seemed childish and naive now that her life would soon be cut short, in a way that honestly felt like having the rug pulled out from under her feet. 

What would Hiroshi say if he ever found that damning letter?

There was so much for her to regret in her ultimately short life, and Asami prayed that those she cared about would forgive her for her lackluster existence and ignorance.

It wasn’t like Asami would be around to find out for much longer.

Emptying her mind, Asami crossed her legs and sat herself on the other side of her cell straight across from the door. She closed her eyes and, although she wasn’t usually the type, attempted to meditate. She had read that meditating simply required a clear mind and concentrating to keep it that way. When Asami went down she wouldn’t give the crew of  _ Tagaka’s Blade _ the satisfaction of her struggling and protests, but she wouldn’t make it a glorious event for them either.

Minutes (hours?) passed by as the cell creaked and rocked. The waves beat the side of the ship. Shifts ended and guards exchanged places in front of Asami’s cell, all the while unrest wormed its way into a pit inside of Asami, along with something that felt uncomfortably like impatience. 

The sun obediently rose, Asami waited.

Her patience was finally rewarded when Tulok opened the door, now fully clothed in his purple and blues with his bandana firmly tucked under his chin. He raised his jaw slightly to motion Asami to get up, a muscle working itself in his mandible.

It was time.

Pirates surrounded Asami and replaced the rope around her wrists with rusty and heavy iron cuffs, bonded together with thick chains.

Hands were placed on Asami’s shoulders and when she attempted to shake them off they tightened their hold. Tulok raised a hand and the grips released her; Asami would walk to her execution with her head held high, no matter how much she was trembling.

Tulok led the entourage to the upper deck. The only sounds that echoed through the hall were footsteps and the occasional rattle of Asami’s chains, while her escorts were close behind.

Before they made their strange exodus onto deck, Tulok silently stopped and pulled something from his pocket. It was the photo he had taken from her the night before and he handed it back to Asami, who quickly tucked it away.  _ You were right _ , the gesture seemed to say.  _ It served its purpose but now it is useless. Might as well have a memento to take to the grave. _

The light was bright to Asami’s unadjusted eyes when they entered the upper deck. Jeers and shouts were thrown around as Tulok placed himself behind her with a firm hand on the nape of her neck, guiding her to the railing of the ship. There was an opening in the railing with a long plank of wood sticking out.

_ How… suitable, _ Asami thought impassively. Perhaps “cliche” would work just as well.

Asami stood where the plank met the floorboards, the plank elevating her by an inch or two with Tulok shadowing her back. It gave her the perfect view of the Fire Nation grade military ship, a small but sleek thing and its steel shone in the late morning light.

There was a collection of figures on the deck of the Fire Nation ship, including the Crown Prince and general of the Fire Nation, Prince Iroh II himself, with a collection of crewmates and officers behind him. How many strings had Hiroshi pulled in order to gain that? And speak of the devil, Hiroshi himself was stood next to General Iroh and looking less than ideal with more than a few stray hairs.  Hiroshi visibly tensed when he noticed Asami and his hands tightened on the railing of the ship. 

Tulok, removing his hand from Asami’s neck, raised his arm in greeting to General Iroh. “Hello there!” he bellowed. “I assume that you have what I asked for?”

General Iroh nodded sparsely. He showed Tulok a briefcase and opened it to reveal what could have been thousands of shiney gold yuans. “There are two others just like it,” he called out. “You will be given the rest of the money when you hand over Lady Sato.”

  
  
Tulok leaned back and rubbed his stubble, a coy smile playing on his lips. He twirled a finger in the air and a metalbender from General Iroh’s ship levitated the briefcase over to Tulok’s waiting hand. 

Setting it down onto the ground, Tulok opened the briefcase and observed the money sitting before him. He let the yuans spill over his hands when he got up and announced, “So the money is real, but before ‘Lady Sato’ returns to you another one of those cases of yuans is gonna have to be handed over to my, ah, care.”

General Iroh shifted in thought but reciprocated when Asami nodded. 

  
The briefcase exchanged hands and was opened to reveal more money. 

“Now hand over Lady Sato,” General Iroh said. The “or else” hung clear off the end of his statement.

Tulok narrowed his kohl-lined eyes, the smile still toying on his mouth dangerously. He shifted and set a hand on the waterskin hanging from his hip. “Well now, we  _ would _ do that, but, alas, ‘Lady Sato’ has killed one of our own. Now she must…  _ pay _ retribution.”

  
  
General Iroh released his hands from behind his back and visibly tensed. Though she couldn’t see them, Asami was sure that his hands were pulling their white gloves off. “What are you saying?”

“I am  _ saying _ that Lady Sato has killed a member of my crew.” Tulok’s voice was colder than the ice he bent. “Stabbed a platinum hairpin clean through my metalbender’s neck. It is only fair that she is to be put to justice, no?” Tulok gestured to his crew behind him and a few rushed forward, the sound of chains rattling echoed in Asami’s ears.

Two crew members, the firebender with green eyes that made yellow-white flames and a man wearing greens and purples, went to Asami and, at Tulok’s orders, wrapped the chains around her waist.

“Wait, stop!” General cried out. He raised his bare hands in an offensive stance that Asami had seen Mako put on before firebending. 

“No. No, I don’t think I will,” Tulok said coolly. More quietly, he said to his crew, “Don’t stop unless I give you a direct order.”

“I will give you three warnings.” General Iroh did not release himself from the firebending stance, and soldiers replicated his pose close behind him and the ship railing. Asami was glad when Hiroshi was moved out of the way and led below deck; he didn’t need to see this. “Three warnings for you to release Lady Sato or we will open fire!”

“Go ahead and try!” Tulok sneered. “Not even the Fire Nation has benders that can take on the Fifth Nation!” The crew of  _ Tagaka’s Blade _ shouted and jeered in response. More than a few benders flexed their variety of skills.

General Iroh’s eyes widened but narrowed into slits. “One!”

“Add the cannonball to Miss Sato’s chains, will you?” Tulok ordered curtly.

The heavy iron ball was linked to Asami’s chains and another soon joined it. A hollow feeling emptied her chest and a tear slid down her face, dripping off her chin into the water below.

“Two!”

One of the pirates nudged Asami to the other end of the plank. It was the firebender with green eyes. “You would’ve made a fine wife,” he said lewdly, his voice sending Asami’s skin crawling. “Shame,” he tsked, “but let’s see how well you swim.”

“This is your last warning,” General Iroh shouted. “Release Lady Sato or we _ will _ open fire!” The soldiers behind him stood strong in their stance, but they were few in their numbers. Asami knew that there were more crewmates hidden below deck on  _ Tagaka’s Blade _ and General Iroh would be overwhelmed.

“Any last words?” Tulok raised an eyebrow.

Raising her chin, Asami quoted, “An eye for an eye and the world goes blind.” 

A moment passed, as if he was pondering her words. “Drop her,” Tulok said casually, but tendrils of water followed the movement of his hand, preparing for a fight.

“Three!”

The firebender with the green eyes smirked and pushed Asami off the plank, who crashed into the waves with a flurry of froth, her clothing splayed out around her in a cloud of sheer red fabric. The fall knocked the breath out of her and she struggled to stay above water.

Fire was sent in blasts from General Iroh’s ship, heating Asami’s face, and was blocked when it reached the  _ Tagaka’s Blade, _ which retaliated with attacks of her own.

Asami gasped and tried swimming but she tired too quickly from the weights. She took a final, damnable breath and was carried down, down, down, into the dark depths of the cold water. She attempted to squirm her wrists out of their metal bondings but only succeeded in rubbing the skin raw. Blood clouded palely around her hands.

A splash sounded above her, making Asami look up (she tried not to notice the orange glow coming from the two ships). General Iroh himself had dived into the waves in order to swim after her in an attempt to rescue her, the brave savant saving the damsel in distress.

Her hero.

General Iroh swam down after her, kicking strongly against the current. He finally grasped her and attempted to pull her back above the water, but the weights were too much for even him.

Positioning two fingers, something Asami had seen Mako do before concentrating on producing a small hot flame, General Iroh’s fingers sent the water around them steaming and eventually made a meager white-yellow flame. He set himself to heating the chains around Asami’s waist enough to break them. It was an impressive feat of firebending, only the most talented benders could make fire underwater, but it wasn’t enough. Eventually, he gave up on that and took a serrated knife from his boot and began sawing at the chainlink he had focused on. 

General Iroh was a clever, determined man, but not even he could breathe underwater. Too soon, his face reddened and his movements became more ragged and clumsy.

Asami shook her head, but General Iroh kept trying to break the metal. Finally, she slipped the glass encased photo of her and her parents out of her pocket.  _ You are my greatest creation, Love Mom, _ read on the back of the picture.

She grabbed General Iroh’s hands, forcing him to stop, and placed the encased picture in his palm. Asami, though her movements were limited from the handcuffs, placed her hands on General Iroh’s shoulder and then, after curling her fingers into fists, to her own chest.  _ I’m sorry _ , it seemed to say.

And she was sorry. General Iroh didn’t need her death on his conscience, to have her pale face under the waves be in his nightmares, but he was needed. He was the crown prince to the Fire Nation, and, not to be nihilistic, Asami’s fate was already set in stone.

It wasn’t his fault that she was being dragged down to the bottom of the sea, but he didn’t need to suffer because of her.

General Iroh shook his head, but Asami kept insisting. Eventually, he started coughing, air bubbles rising quickly to the surface. He mouthed  _ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. _ She nodded and squeezed his hand.  _ (Her head was pounding and her chest felt like someone had placed a cinder block on top of it.) _

All too soon, General Iroh’s hand slipped out of hers and, with her photo clutched tight in his hand, swam up to follow his escaped air bubbles to the battle above.

Asami’s weights dragged her down and she let them.

^^^

Drowning didn’t hurt as much as Asami thought it would. The ocean seemed to embrace her, the current tugged away her fear and most of her other emotions along with it. In fact, she didn’t feel much of anything. But her head was adjusting far too quickly to the heavy water pressure and made her eyes see lights that weren’t there. Like stars or, a more delusional part of Asami insisted, spirits.

Two of these tiny, white stars stayed stubbornly in her vision and became larger and closer. They almost looked like glowing eyes, and, if Asami squinted, she could see the tanned face they belonged to.

Briefly, she wondered if in the spirit world everyone had stars like that. 

She didn’t have much time left and she swore to keep her sight on those lights as she died. As the light faded, Asami Sato began to dim with it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can make no promises on when the third chapter comes out, but i hope to get it out soon!
> 
> next chapter is when the shit hits the fan, and possibly when we meet a certain avatar
> 
> feel free to let me know any questions or comments you may have!


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